


Equilateral

by orphan_account



Category: The Legend of Zelda
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Multi, Suffering, awkward size difference, termina is the afterlife, the fuckin moon, the moon is not sexually involved in the plot don't worry, triforce of threesomes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:36:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had never been together in this world before. In sick way, it felt right. They were just doing what they'd always done, lifetime after lifetime- grappling for power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Farore’s loneliness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yuugao818](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=yuugao818), [modusponens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/modusponens/gifts).



> Since it's pretty well acknowledged that i'm a sick fuck by now, I was talking to some of my friends from other fandoms about how I actually really love LoZ and the dynamic of these three. Ocarina of time being my favorite, but Link's...age...issue there kept me from putting it in that particular universe. Instead they explanation is death giving them a level of consciousness of past lifetimes. It doesn't take place after any particular game, but it references several of them.  
> The first two chapters are just interactions, narrated by Link and Zelda, the third will have smut and the consent is dubious. Like, there is consent but this is a three-way mindgame (more like two way mindgame and link being himself buuut u know) I just want to put that out there but I mean you see the pairing and if you've read anything else I've written you're probably familiar with my awfulness by now.

This world again.

  
In truth, Termina could barely be called a world- a universe constructed to confine the spirits of the dead, to house them in an illusion of a complete scenario until the second life was open to them once more...Link had been here countless times before.  
Perhaps an appropriate term for Termina would be ‘the end of the world.’ While no less real than Hyrule and it’s complicated history in some respects, no less destructible, he could easily peg it as the afterlife once he entered it for a simple reason- in this world, he regained his memories.  
Countless lives, timeline after timeline, success and failure, merged into the being of one young Hylian boy. Could he really be considered young? His body was a separate matter after all. He had been 19 in that life, relatively old compared to past adventures, and each time he found himself on the other side, his body retained its latest appearance. But the soul of the hero was far beyond that number, no matter how righteous and pure it remained.  
It could have been depressing, but it was comforting in a way. Even in the event he failed, there was always the next life, and the next, and the next. When he woke up in Hyrule, years, maybe months from now, his soul would be wiped clean of those memories, and with a clean slate, he could try once more to vanquish the evil that rebirthed itself alongside him, and free them all from their fated struggle.

  
The grass here smelled of home. Perhaps it was because he wished it that way, even the trees familiar to trees of Hyrules past, burned down in war or drowned in flood.  
Consciousness of his memories wasn’t an immediate result of passing into Termina. That was simply the result of the sheer number of scenarios he had undergone by this point. Two or three lifetimes was not a heavy burden for a soul, but ten, twenty, many of them in which he fought for the sake of the same friends, the destruction and birth of many Hyrules, his assurance of himself had grown. He was convinced that this is why his own memories held such esteem on the shape of things here, the sheer power of his own destiny, even if it sounded vain in his head, but regardless, the eerie familiarity had its own form of comfort.  
The first few times he had been here were different. He had come alone, unaware of the illusion, and, as if starting from scratch, he had befriended the very people he had protected in the past life, watched them as their souls were shuffled to and fro, between here and Hyrule…between life and death.

Zelda, she was never here when he was. It seemed as though their meetings were destined to be brief, their existences brought together by the tangled strings of fate and then cut away prematurely, and with each lifetime they drifted more and more.  
He wasn’t sure if he loved her.  
Love was a strange term. There was a magnetic draw to her, one that always seemed to drag him into the web of events wound around her in each life. No matter how naïve he was in each scenario, no matter how estranged or close they were at the start, it was their destiny to meet again.  
But love wasn’t a fair term, because it ignored the third presence, also absent from Termina time and time again…perhaps because Link usually failed to kill him off for good, and in the event he was actually vanquished, Link's lives were usually long and happy. Ganon was less of a constant and more of an inevitable, nonetheless the draw to him was exactly the same as it was to her, no matter how different the feeling- how righteous the anger towards him, it was the same magnetism.  
There had been many Terminas, some that even faced the threat of destruction as Hyrule did. It seemed strange that the dead could fear death, but the afterlife was not the same as nothingness after all, it was simply a barrier between the previous world and the next. The existence of the triforce in this world…it was simply a legend. The Master Sword was absent, and with it, all the power he had obtained in his previous life vanished until he reclaimed it once more. If Termina was under threat, he would have to regain it all again- undergo the trials set up by the afterlife and once again prove his worthiness, even without the sword of evil's bane, but the constant growth of knowledge of his past lives made it increasingly easy to protect this place, to be the hero of the world between lives.

  
This time was different.  
The deciding factor between this Termina and the last was the knowledge bestowed upon him when he exited the field and entered Clock Town, a now familiar silhouette standing ominously under the awning of one of the small shops, as smiling contently though he'd been waiting for this moment all along.  
“You look troubled, young hero.”  
This man, with his stooped back and twitchy hands, he was a familiar face in both life and death, though meeting him in either seemed entirely up to chance. Link had a suspicion that they were the same in some respect- that this man had some tenuous control over time and knowledge of destiny, though the skinny stranger with his constant grin had no magnetism about him. The smile was as fake as the masks he carried, and though he’d never lifted a finger against him, he was repellant, disturbing, he frightened Link in a way few people did in either world.  
“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?”  
Those words never bode well. It was true, however. In the previous lifetime…in Hyrule…  
He had failed this time around. He was killed, brutally murdered by Ganon, and had left Zelda to fend for herself.  
“Don’t fret, young hero. They will be here soon as well. It’s getting late, though boy, so I should be on my way. And you too, hero, you shouldn’t stall for too long in this world.”  
Ominous. He was always so ominous, even though his tone had such a lyrical quality. Link nodded his head in recognition of the advice, before continuing on his way down the street, stopping to pet a small dog that ran towards him eagerly. He looked back only once on impulse, but the mask salesman was already gone, suspiciously fast for a man who carried his entire business on his back. That was the end of the advice, then? Link suspected that the wandering salesman had once again crossed over to the other world, to Hyrule, where he would continue to peddle his wares. The grinning man was not one to fight his own battles, and perhaps sensed a bad omen in the winds of Termina.

 _They will be here soon as well._  
He could feign naivete to the identities referenced all he wanted, but Link knew better. The Mask Salesman would have specified had it been anyone else, he knew about the fated triangle Link was trapped in, perhaps he had even come here for that express purpose- just to relay that news.  
He was alone _now_ , but he wouldn't be for long; he had failed that terribly. But the apprehension he felt was not the same as fear. It wasn't eagerness either, but a sense of necessity.  
 _If you have come to this world as well...then I will greet you._  
Clock Town grew silent as night fell, the dogs retreating into their homes and leaving him alone in the main square. He gazed up at the moon, and the moon glared back with a hideous smile. No danger of it crashing, it was nonetheless unnerving, a constant voyeur in this world, where even loneliness carried the weight of that unsettling stare.


	2. Nayru's Helplessness

Termina had a fluidity to it, almost. Every time Zelda found herself in this place, its landscape changed to accommodate the current occupants, a storybook that was rewritten time and time again, with only the most basic of infrastructure remaining the same.  
Sometimes she recognized the people she met here. Most of Zelda’s lifetimes were long, but admittedly sheltered, so her companions were limited between these worlds. She didn’t have the liberty to travel the country as Link did, save for the few times she wasn’t born as royalty. It was a pity, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, for in Termina, nobody recognized her.  
She surmised that the rest of them didn’t have the same degree of awareness. Upon her death, the triforce of wisdom would slumber in Hyrule once more, but that did not remove her level head and capacity for knowledge, nor her destiny for rebirth after rebirth. If she’d wanted to rule this land, she could. She had the power to shape it as such.  
Normal beings also had a lower frequency rate of reincarnation. Zelda’s time in Termina was usually brief. Due to her own judgment in previous lifetimes, she had kept her bloodline intact over the years, ensuring that the royal family would always have an heiress whose form she would assume shortly after the death of the previous Zelda.

This time…  
This time she feared the worst.  
The death of the hero- of Link, the boy she met through countless lifetimes, sometimes as a stranger, sometimes a dear friend; with his death, hope for Hyrule had died as well.  
Ganon had failed to obtain the triforce of courage- Link had transferred that power to her with his dying wish. Such was the struggle between them, that it would always take both wisdom and courage to overcome that being’s wrath, however, a sheltered child like her, naïve within that lifetime, was not fully prepared to wield that artifact. She was not like Link. She would have died in vain, so that had been her final act of courage; to drag this monster into the afterlife with her, even if it was for the final time.  
Yes. She had terminated herself, and the beast along with her.  
They entered this life the way they exited the last, the demonic boar with his clawed hands digging into her tender neck as the spell she cast dimmed, the castle they had fought over manifesting anew in the region of Ikana, a strange parallelism to their death scene, differentiated only by the landscape outside the towering windows.  
Upon realizing the truth, the beast cast her aside furiously, looking at his own monstrous hands. He snarled, tusks glinting in the candlelight as he turned once more towards her.

“What point is there in fighting in the afterlife? If you wish to be king of this illusion…I will not stop you,” she said quietly, massaging her neck gingerly. “After all...the people of Termina will soon forget your cruelty. That is the way of this world.”

He made a sound- not quite the snarl of a beast, closer to the cackle of a man, his warped form exploding into a mass of blackened flames before she could blink. Zelda fell backwards and cried out in shock, Ganon’s form convulsing oddly, like his spine was broken, a terrible ripping and snapping sound mingling with the crackling of dark magic until the form of the beast tore itself in half, flaming skin shriveling and falling to dust as the man within the husk was revealed, once again turning away from her and looking at his now human hands with a distant satisfaction.  
He was still enormous, muscles rippling beneath the intricate armor he donned, hair red as blood against his dark complexion, the very embodiment of the power he was destined to wield. When they met eyes once more, after he became accustomed to his human form, she noted that his eyes were the same as the beast’s- a hungry, uncanny shade of yellow. She had not seen his Gerudo form in the previous lifetime- he was already a monster by the time they fought, but he’d changed little since his last human incarnation.  
“Termina,” Ganondorf said, his voice deep and ripe with amusement. “I have been to this world many times…sometimes as its king, sometimes choosing to live humbly. But never have I entered this realm alongside you, princess Zelda. How interesting, to see how this plays out.”  
She cared little for this foul man’s notion of ‘interesting.’ The thought of him choosing in any world to ‘live humbly;’ that caught her off guard for a moment. He caught her skepticism quick as the hawk he resembled, letting out another short string of laughter.  
“I see you are surprised by my choice of lifestyle in death. But truly you must understand…the self-awareness this world has granted us grows dull. I tire of the same situation, timeline after timeline. That is why the notion of ‘heaven’ has never appealed to me, why the spread of fear and strife is so desirable. Watching your little kingdom flourish within its bubble of happiness is always the trigger for that boredom, I admit. You know very well how deep my hatred of you burns. And yet…”

He was walking towards her now, nearly twice her height, and Zelda’s form had always been small, even in situations where she had toned her muscles to perfection, had joined Link in his adventures, or even guided him…  
He grabbed her wrist then, and Zelda yelped, the proximity of his face, his breath was hot, his skin, too, as he twisted her delicate hand around and looked at it hungrily, despite knowing no triforce would reveal itself. She turned away, ashamed of her own fear. His spare hand lifted one of her golden locks, calloused palm pressing against her own skin and forcing her to look at him once more; crushing her cheeks into an involuntary pout, she was aware of her vulnerability then, cheeks shamefully soft, unblemished, how dare he, how dare this monster touch her so?  
“What do you do here, when nobody recognizes that face? Do you attempt to establish order in this world of nonsense? Do you play pretend on your temporary throne? I wonder…”  
“Don’t touch me,” she finally said, and to her surprise he acquiesced, withdrawing to a respectful distance but not taking his eyes off of her.  
You know very well how deep my hatred of you burns…  
It was more complex than that, was it not? How could such a simple motive drive him, time after time, to attempt their destruction? Ganon, the monster he wore like a mask, was a simple creature, perhaps. But Ganondorf was not stupid, and a cunning man letting the mere rage of a beast drive him…it was impossible for her to understand.  
It was strange to say, knowing the evil that shrouded his humanity, but…  
“You’re better than that.”

His bushy eyebrows raised, genuine in his surprise, his lips drawing into a grin, but he didn’t release the laugh she expected this time.  
“How rare of you to compliment me, princess. I’m not sure what I have done to instill such faith in you. Perhaps I should rectify my mistake now?”  
His hand, his human hand found itself around her fragile neck once more, and he slammed her body into the wall, her muffled shriek echoing through the room as she thrashed in his grip.  
Was anyone else in this castle but them? Doubtfully. It had been their own presence in Termina that created it, after all, even if others manifested it was his castle, he had blemished her stronghold and turned it into his own, and this room was his quarters. She was alone and the strength was draining from her body, his chiseled features softening as her vision blurred.  
“I am a terrible man,” she heard him say, as though at the end of a darkening tunnel. “Your moral regards are meaningless to me. The only thing I care about is strength. What must I do to prove this to you?”  
Zelda, unconscious, could offer no reply.


	3. Din's Misery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KEEP GeTTING REMINDED THIS iS A tHING.   
> unfortunately this chapter ended up being long, not because it's long and smutty like i intended, but because I channeled Nisio Isin and wasted half the chapter having my characters sit around and talk while naked. Due to this there will be a fourth chapter to finish it up. aaaaw yeah.  
> i'm still half sorry for this.

Ganondorf’s rage was quelled as she ceased to struggle, and he loosened his grip, baring his teeth in satisfaction as Zelda’s head lolled to the side.

“Where is your chosen hero now, Hylia?” he whispered, and Zelda didn’t reply, of course she didn’t, she was unconscious, and he realized with a pang that he was incredibly bored once more, her silence almost as painful as the thought of her kingdom’s naivete.

Lowering her with significantly less force and gently lifting her legs, he looked around the room he had claimed as his quarters, the shattered organ by the window, the torched curtains and broken tiles, the bed he never slept in. Laying her like a glass object upon it, he sat down next to her and stared somberly, watching the hideous flush of asphyxiation retreat from her cheeks until she was once again the paradigm of grace and beauty. “Disgusting,” he thought alloud, resting his head in his hand, and waited.

He could fix the room if he wanted. The last incarnation of the hero had wrecked it before he was struck down, but Ganondorf’s own tastes and flourishes upon the castle of Hyrule (now Ikana Castle he supposed) were rather meaningless, their intended purpose had been to invoke rage in that boy’s righteous heart, a place as sacred as Hyrule castle taking on Ganon’s image.

Zelda inhaled perilously, he had really done a number on her fragile body, probably broken some ribs, and this after her own magic had already been expended on the final suicide attack. She was helpless now, he could kill her instantly, but he didn’t, because helpless was unchallenging, because he needed her alive for some intangible reason even he didn’t understand, realizing he hadn’t lied to her about the plague of boredom that was chasing after them and failing, lifetime after lifetime.

And yet, that constant reincarnation cycle, the never-ending game of cat and mouse was all he had to look forward to.

It was the curse from which he had been born, an obsession that wouldn’t die, no matter how many times he failed, simply because _without them he had no reason to exist._

He was not Demise. He was a _construct,_ born from a single emotion; given form by that demon’s hatred.

Demise hadn’t known that a human cannot exist on the basis of a single emotion, nor had he cared. Existing as a monster was more satisfying for that very reason, because Ganon didn’t need to justify his megalomania, 'Ganon' couldn’t think enough for that.

_Ganondorf_ waited for the hero, needed him just as much as Zelda beside him, needed justification that something in this world was worthy of his hatred- if Zelda could not return it, then Link surely would. She whimpered beside him, sweat beading on her forehead, a strand of hair caught in her mouth, fluttering with each agonizing breath.Slowly, he reached towards her, plucked it away from her lips and accidentally brushed her cheek again, sheltered from the light, soft and young and completely different from his cruel and calloused palms.

If he wouldn’t come for her...then perhaps it was time to end this. With Hylia dead, would his own existence vanish? Or could he simply live on in bliss and reclaim the world that was rightly his- the land of Hyrule, once and for all. Probably neither- what was death in the afterlife anyway? She would probably be reborn again, pure and calm and showered in holy light, and he alongside her, destined to wreck havoc upon her sacred kingdom.

He had little time to ponder this as an arrow tore through the canopy and planted itself in the frame of the bed, followed immediately by the sound of the bowstring tensing again, ready to fire another. He lifted his eyes, satisfied smile returning, searched for the clash of green against the overwhelming red of the palace and met Link’s furious eyes.

“I was waiting for you,” he said lowly.

No reply, just the stretching sound of the hero’s bow readying its next shot, and Ganondorf realized that his hands were unsteady- the initial miss had been unintentional. He’d been quite prepared to pierce right through his enemy’s skull but had uncharacteristically lost resolve.

Why?

“Do you really hate me that much, hero?” he questioned, and Link’s wide blue eyes narrowed, darting towards Zelda, whose ragged breathing was the only constant in the otherwise dead silence, her usually immaculate appearance disheveled and hair still tangled in his fingers. Ganondorf moved his hand ever so slightly, let the golden locks slip through them like water and fall once more against her cheek, expression uncaring.

‘I see. Perhaps you thought I had violated her. You misunderstand just how terrible I am, boy.”

Link’s expression was now confused, the statement vague enough to stall him for another moment, dark mana raging through Ganondorf’s veins and accumulating in his palm, which he was still hovering over Zelda’s body. He was far closer than an arrow’s flight to the princess, and could undoubtedly kill her before his own death.

Would the hero take that chance?

Of course not. Link lowered his bow very hesitantly, disappointed. After all, it was he who hadn’t made it in time. Undoubtedly, he’d had some collection to do before barging in here, and this time it didn’t serve him well. Ganondorf’s expression moved as well, mirrored the hero’s disappointment and quickly grew to irritation. How could he be smug with such an anticlimactic victory?

“I can’t bring myself to do it,” he continued, magic vanishing, and the now confused hero lowered his weapon all the way, arms slack at his side.

“You see, that is what kind of terrible man I am. If there isn’t a fight, there’s no satisfaction in hurting your enemies. This world and all others, it is scattered with weak trash, barely worth my acknowledgement. It takes no deliberation to slaughter a fool who trembles in fear or grovels in reverence...you...I had grown to see you in a different light.”

Link’s previously calm face was becoming livid again, gloved hands fingering the handle of his bowstring once more, moving focus from himself to the floor, to the unconscious Zelda, unsure how to proceed.

“I am fond of this woman. I suppose that is the closest word to describing that emotion.You too, hero...do you understand our destiny? You are not fond of mincing words, but you must understand the two most base of emotions, love and hate, hate and love...when boiled down to their essence...it simply comes down to obsession.”

Ganondorf stood, Zelda groaning quietly as his retreating weight caused the mattress to shift.  Link took a step forward, then paused, Ganon stretching his fingers so that his knuckles cracked hideously.

“Tell me, Link.”  
The use of his given name caused him to tense his entire body, but he held his ground with a fierce determination. He was expecting a battle. After all, this was what he had come to know of Ganon, battle after battle, indiscriminate slaughter of his loved ones in countless lifetimes.

“Do you love this girl?”

Those youthful eyes widened, lips moving as though to speak, but he was taken aback. No sound came out.

“You have a voice, and yet you refuse to use it in such a dire time? What kind of courage is that? If I said to you, ‘give me your answer now, or I will kill her,’ would you speak then?”

“Y-....yes.”

“So you do have words,” Ganon pondered, somewhat quietly, looking to the side. Link didn’t know what to expect at this point, but it was certainly not his next action- Ganon’s chosen sword manifesting above the princess’s vulnerable frame and striking through her chest with a violent plunge.

Link choked on his scream and Ganondorf smiled once more, gripping the handle and twisting the weapon cruelly before pulling it from her bosom without a care, surveying the blade wickedly as her life’s blood trickled down its surface.

How he longed for conversation, for that savage rage to overtake him once more, instead he incited it in that boy, relishing his impulsive rush forward, uncapping a bottle franticly and letting loose a captured fairy with no further thought of self-preservation.

The tiny creature spun around the princess, its reviving power pumping through her body, stitching her gaping chest closed, repairing her fractured ribs, filling her aching lungs, the color returning to her cheeks as she sat up abruptly, uttering a frightened “Link?” just in time to find the hero’s body thrown on top of her own, Ganondorf twisting the smaller man’s arm behind his back until he screamed in pain.

“How many lifetimes, and you never grow up,” he hissed cruelly, Link making a furious sound, Zelda still in terror beneath their combined weight, he didn’t dare thrash for fear of hurting her further.

Link’s sounds weren’t even words, they were annoying, and Ganondorf knocked away his cap and wound his fingers into the dirty blonde locks, shoved his face into the pillow beside Zelda, muffling his cries as she stared back at him with fearful eyes, like a startled doe.

“I hate disgusting creatures like you. That sickening innocence you hold onto, your ridiculous idealism, no matter how many families you’ve started and lost, you’re as aware of this dreary cycle as I, and yet you dare look at me like blushing virgins who have never wronged anyone.”

He lifted Link’s head once more, allowing him to gasp for breath, Zelda’s eyebrows creased in mingled worry and fear.

Ganondorf yanked the hero’s head back even further, neck exposed and chest jutting forward, the larger man’s elbow digging into his back and both wrists thrashing in the other hand, whispered in his ear dangerously-

“Now that she’s awake, why don’t you tell her what you told me?”

“Ganondorf!” Zelda cried, finally finding her resolve. “What is the meaning of this?”

“There is no meaning” he replied, Link’s body trembling at the proximity to his sensitive ears, probably still trying to keep a calm face for the princess. Sensing the change in posture, knowing Link’s agile nature, he sat on his legs as well, his body now completely trapped in Ganon’s grip, Zelda helpless beneath both of them.

It was now her turn to grow livid.

“You are foul,” she said, such ice in her words; no more, he didn’t want to hear the princess speak, he wanted this useless ‘boy’ to use his voice again.

“It’s ok to be afraid, Link,” he said coldly, using her face as an indicator for the hero’s, withdrawing his fingers from the straw-colored hair and letting him ease his posture ever so slightly, Zelda becoming increasingly worried. She was right, after all- kindness was not Ganondorf’s virtue, any kind action was always followed by one twice as cruel. Wisdom had taught her this, it had taught the optimist trapped between them nothing, for Nayru had blessed him with naught, no amount of experience wouldn’t change the hero’s nature to trust.

“I know,” the other man finally said, his voice lower in tone than expected, calm, but nearly inaudible.

“Link, it’s ok-”  
“But it isn’t, princess. Don’t lie to him,” Ganon replied smoothly, pondering if he should really be taking it this far, if he was that determined to be a monster, if he really had such resolve.

“Will you kill us,” she breathed when the silence had grown unbearable, and Ganondorf decided then that he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, she was far too proud, far too virtuous, and it wouldn’t make a difference in the cycle, it wouldn’t ease his boredom, it would only start the whole thing again.

Death meant nothing anymore.He would have to shatter the very foundation of who they were, crush them beneath him as only he could. Their bodies were useless dolls, repairable and replaceable, it was their very souls that tormented him.

‘Do you want to die, Princess?”

Her brows stitched together, almost like she was worried for him, concerned that he’d question such a thing- who would admit to their own deathwish? That defied the type of logic Zelda thrived on, but he would make her understand; the misery that bound them together.

“You’re like me, aren’t you, Zelda? Always born into that sweltering environment, the weight of your kingdom’s expectations, your name and destiny thrust upon you before you can scarcely walk. We aren’t like him, you and I. Given the chance to roam, travel and make friends, to seek our own purpose. That is the defining difference in an apparently equal destiny. Lifetimes where he was perhaps absent, never chose to seek the path of a hero...we never had that luxury.”

Her face was still concerned, as though what he was saying saddened her more than enraged her. Why? How could she make such a face at him now?

“No…” Link whispered, surprising both of them, and Ganondorf yanked his hair again, but the hero stifled the pain, turned around with an impudent expression- like Zelda he wasn’t angry anymore- serious, but there was no venom there.

“No?”

“I always choose...to follow the same path as you. So...kill me...if you must...I’ll seek you out again, no matter what.”

The longest sentence this man had made in their entire shared history together, and it was infuriating- far more infuriating than any silence. Who would choose such a path? If he had the luxury of saying no, of walking away from that destiny, living his humble and ignorant life without bringing calamity to his loved ones, why would he choose not to?

Why would he choose _them_?

“No," he finally replied in answer, 'will you kill us, go ahead and kill me,' he wouldn't, not this time. "Next time I will kill you. This time I will defile you.”

Zelda responded first. Of course she would. It was ok- her reaction to such a foul statement was the more desirable to him.

“Do you mean to rape us, Ganondorf? That is a low declaration, even for you. I suppose you are desperate in such a climate.”

“Low? You know nothing of my depravity, princess. I told both of you separately in no short number of ways; you hold me in too high esteem. I was placed upon this earth to hurt you, and naught else. What you define as laws and morals; like your spirits, those things demand to be broken.”

“Then do as you must to me, Ganondorf, and I won’t resist. But let Link go.”

Zelda’s eyelids lowered. She was torn between disgust and interest, her ever-curious mind trying to understand the motives of someone as far removed from her own desires as night and day. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his deep voice raising the tender hairs on the back of the hero’s neck, his grip loosening entirely and Link falling forward onto her chest, he didn’t move, Zelda stroked the back of his head soothingly, almost protectively, as if he was the one that truly needed rescuing.

“I have released him, but if he stays or not...that is not your decision, princess. It is his own. So, hero? Will you leave this woman at my mercy? I tire of violence that reaps no benefit. I will only raise my hand against either of you if you make attempt at taking my life...this time, at least. I make no such promises for the next time we meet.”

Link mumbled something into Zelda’s shoulder, and Ganondorf felt the rage building up behind his eyelids again.

“I can’t hear you, boy.”

“He says to let me go and take him instead. But I have made my decision as well. I will show you my resolve,” Zelda said quietly. “My soul is not something you can tarnish, and neither is Link’s. Perhaps with this you will finally understand.”

Ganon chuckled once more, then grabbed Link’s shoulders, jerking him away from the princess. He moved his knees so the other two were no longer restrained, but neither moved against him, as promised earlier. Truthfully, escape was possible for them at this point, even if injury occurred, they’d had enough time to plan it. He could tell they were looking at each other, communicating in the language Link prefered and Ganon could not understand, silence, the softening of eyes, tender smiles; so that was it...they were finally together in this world, free to express the things their memories had repressed, Ganondorf’s presence would not hinder that...perhaps he was even needed, to complete the triangle.

In sick way, it felt right. They were just doing what they'd always done, lifetime after lifetime- grappling for power. Perhaps they even understood his lie- his need to justify himself as a monster. Would he have violated them without those modest words of agreement?

He wanted to think so. He wanted to be that terrible. ‘Evil,’ she’d called him, time and time again, born evil, born to do terrible things, he’d heard it so many times he couldn’t fathom anything else.

"Very well, then."

Without kindness or warning, he pulled the hero’s pants down, pushed his tunic up further, Link made a few surprised gasps but didn’t resist, moved forward and placed his hands on either side of Zelda’s head, bracing his body above her. Zelda cupped his cheeks and brought their lips together, chaste, it wasn’t a ‘first time’ type of kiss, they weren’t awkward, just hesitant. Zelda’s solution to the barrier of her clothing was simple, she used a small amount of magic the fairy had replenished to dissolve her intricate robes, unblemished skin reflecting the meager light, the candles, the savage moon leering through the window with the same wretched expression he was making right now.

“Are you going to fuck her?” he whispered in the hero’s ear, Link gulped at the question, shook his head from side to side in denial; “If you don’t I will. I am more accustomed to women’s bodies. I prefer them, as men are less accessible where I come from, I’m sure you understand. You are feminine enough to appeal to me, I will admit, but you are also more prone to being injured by this.”

“For Zelda…” the hero murmured, and lowered his head, he moved his hand between his legs, trying to bring himself to arousal for her sake, Zelda was looking at Ganondorf once more, face firm despite her nudity.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him.”

Not to be outdone by her magic, his own clothes seemed to burst into flame, evaporating and crumbling, that caustic magic far enough under his control not to cause damage- his muscular form exposed, however, spoke differently.

“Not deliberately. But he’s being stubborn, and unless there is something in his pouch to help this along, I can’t make any guarantees. Personally, I don’t care how much pain this causes him. The more he screams the better it is for me.” 

“Don't say such things-"

“What about you, princess? I’m sure you can see from your current position that this is not an ideal setup for your dear hero. But you are practiced in healing magic. If he insists on placing himself between us as always, perhaps it is your duty to ensure his safety.”

“My mana is nearly depleted,” she said quietly, then turned her head to the side, closing her eyes for a brief moment before pressing her hands against Link’s chest, her magic seeping into his skin and glowing, and he sighed in relief.

“A spell that numbs pain,” she whispered.

“Good, good, the princess sacrifices her last reserves to help others, so noble as always. I’ll make sure he repays you,” Ganondorf said with a mocking affection, wrapping his large hand around the hero’s length, quite ungently, he was growing hard, probably more due to adrenaline than arousal, helped along by Zelda’s spell. Ganondorf’s entire body was enough to swallow both of them, not unlike the disproportionate size of the moon to this earth, Zelda’s eyes closed as he came closer, she could not deny her own fear and embarrassment any longer.

His rough, unlubricated hand had managed to do the job, Link was hard despite his unkind movements, and instead of allowing him to go to Zelda, with a nasty smile he pulled the hero into his lap, toying with him further while she lay there vulnerably. 

Ganon would make her come to them. After all, it had always been the other way around, lifetimes spend chasing her, she could take her time as he loosened this man up, caressing his face and feeling the heat pooling under his skin, for once forcing his own silence- denial, it shouldn’t feel good, but it did...

“You’re a thrillseeker after all,” Ganondorf whispered into Link’s ear, rubbing the sensitive flesh as he spoke, the hero yelped. So it was true what they said about the Hylians and their tender ears. 

Sensing his distress, Zelda crawled to her knees, covered her exposed breasts with growing modesty- this was not intercourse consummated for love or marriage, it was a situation driven by necessity, wasn’t it? That was what she had convinced herself, just as he had convinced himself it was a crime. That was the only way the Desert King and the Light Princess could function together; denial of lifetimes driving the three of them closer and closer, this logic extreme- _wrong_ ; it was unwanted, there was no attraction there at all, nothing but vengeance would come of this act, whoever remained with dignity intact by the end of this. Wasn’t that the entire point of fighting? Driving your enemies into a corner with no way out?

“Disgusting” she said coldly, noticing his smile, unknowing that was the same word he had murmured to himself earlier. As though to comfort the hero, she cupped his cheeks so gently, too gently; ‘don’t be ashamed,’ and he thought to himself they were hardly fit to be lovers- the hero simply wasn’t ruthless enough for that woman.

She wasn’t unkind, that wasn’t it at all. But there was something terrifying about princess Zelda, if he understood the meaning of that word at all, perhaps he simply misconstrued it, her entire persona was so careful, so gentle and calm and decent that it seemed impossible to exist in human flesh.

He understood well that she was inhuman- just as he was a being shaped by that demon’s wrath, she had been placed among humans as a beacon of goodness. Perhaps it was natural he’d find her so repellant.

What about the man between them, then? Just what was he?

He started to laugh, then, and she focused on him for just a moment, shrewd and wary, Link tensed.

“What,” Zelda said quietly.

“I was just thinking about how funny it is,” he replied, her eyebrows furrowing in frustration at the insufficient answer. “His name. How funny that is.”

Her mouth opened, perhaps sensing the rise in his mal-intent, he raked his fingers across Link’s back, Link didn’t feel it- under her spell, perhaps misconstrued it as pleasure, maybe he didn’t even need the spell to be that kind of masochist, after all, he’d chosen this place, a proverbial tug-toy for royalty that acted like stubborn children even after countless lifetimes of fighting.

“So tell me, princess...if I break the link between us...will I finally be able to reach out…”

His other hand made its way towards her, for pride’s sake she didn’t move when he once again touched her face- still disarmingly soft,  like she hadn’t seen a day of hardship in her life. “And crush you?”

“Perhaps,” she replied shrewdly. Then, with no hesitation- “But you won’t.”

That part was too vague. That sort of irritating self-assurance. Won’t what? But she must have sensed his annoyance, lips forming the words sure to incite his rage-

“You won’t break him.”


End file.
